Military food Archives - Page 2 of 4

6 March 1945

Dear Folks:

Thought I better use a V-mail tonight as there isn’t much to write about. But today did have one of those seldom occasions. For the first time in almost a year I had some ice cream. It was just enough to wet your whistle but it was damned good. Probably that will be my ration for a long time to come. Haven’t had any mail the last few days so tomorrow should bring in a big batch. Got a January Reader’s Digest a few days ago so I’ve had some good reading material. In the December 23^rd issue of the Saturday Evening Post there is a good article on artillery that you might like and also in a recent American. Been laying off exercises this week and the doc is giving me sulphadiazene tablets for my back. Maybe that will do it. I guess this is about it for another time. Better write Dick tonight.

Love,

16 February 1945

Dear folks,

I just finished cleaning up my mess then lit up a cigar and opened a beer and now ready to spend the balance of the evening writing letters—and always you’re the first on the list. I made the mess while trying to build a box to send the bolo and the scandals and finally completed the job and I think it will stick together at that. I had a Filipino girl get the scandals for me and she did pretty good. She’s also the laundry girl.

About four nights I saw a leg show with real white girls and civilians. The USO put on ‘Hellz-poppin’. There must have been a dozen chorus girls and two or three men. Needless to say the theater area was packed and the fact that a brisk shower cut loose had little effect on the guys. Neither did the singer complain—she just stood in the rain and kept going. It was full of laughs and with the right amount of spice. It was the best overseas show I’ve seen yet. I hope we can have more of them.

Had another letter today—a V-letter from Mom. I’m afraid I can’t answer the questions you put in that one.

Also two Free Presses came along but haven’t had much time to read them yet. Did see the pictures of the Sage boys, but the boys. I can imagine the banker Sage is quite a cigar smoking important individual.

A few days ago last week a Red Cross dame came around with a truckload of cold Coke and peanuts so we lined up with our mess cups and drank up. She had on slacks with the pants rolled up and about everyone was looking in the same direction. We must be getting to be wolves, huh?

I wished I could think of more to write about but nothing seems to want to pop up. I can’t help but feel that this year sometime we will either get a few furloughs or rotation. In every Free Press I read about fellows getting back. It seems like everyone has been home at some time or other. It’s hard to imagine myself getting home. About every night we get a strong blow and lots of rain and sometimes I think the tents will come down. If they would we’d be a sorry bunch of wet rats. A rain can from out of a clear sky in five minutes and then it all cuts loose. And after that it’s hot as hell. Had steaks for dinner yesterday with good dark gravy so that was a treat.

That’s really all I’m good for so this is it.

Love,

27 January 1945

Dear Folks:

I don’t think this will be much of a letter but better write anyway. It was just another day today with no high spots. Dan Gottman came over for a little while so I showed him the pictures and the clipping you sent. He always likes to talk about the NPV. He told me a four-foot snake got under his cot the other day and scared him to death. I guess there are a few cobras around and hope I don’t run into one.

I just heard the mail plane go over so perhaps the day will end up with a letter or two. No packages yet. I heard over the radio a Liberty Ship was sunk 400 miles west of Hawaii. I hope it doesn’t have our boxes on it.

Had a good rain today so of course we are walking in mud again. We have our ‘office’ in a pyramidal tent and have the floor covered with sand, we also sleep in it. We keep dry and live under pretty good conditions. Of course we keep our stuff in boxes and filed desks so we can move in a hurry. I imagine Dad you’re moving your office around as much as we do.

Just opened a beer—pretty good and it’s cold – I mean as cold as we can get it here. We get all kinds and most of it is good.

A safari of ‘gooks’ is just going by the tent – must be 25 of them – each with a can that they collect our food that we don’t eat. The little boogars especially like coffee. So many of them are diseased I don’t like to get too close to them. The first thing in the morning, girls start coming around getting washing. They beat them on rocks and do a good job. Some of them are kind of cute, but I don’t go for their smell.

Guess I’ll go up to the 1^st sergeant and check on my mail. Well I believe this is all. I’m feeling fine and have my appetite going again. I know how you feel about Phil leaving but this is for sure, he will appreciate his home and his parents more than ever before and he will come to realize how much (he) has enjoyed. He will be alright.

Love,

24 January 1945

Dear folks,

It’s about a half an hour before mess and I’m taking it easy now after cooling off in the creek so I’m in a good mood to write. Occasionally a Jap will be found at the river, but we don’t worry much about it. The day before yesterday we killed one. He was in terrible shape and weighed probably about 65 pounds, probably had been living on coconuts and grass. One more good Jap.

Well today and yesterday were occasions for a few small pleasures, as pleasures are measured over here. Probably first on the list is the fact that we had steaks yesterday. Pretty good, and the whole meal was excellent. In conjunction we had butter that doesn’t melt —in other words fresh butter. All meant a great deal. And last nite we popped some corn that the Grove’s sent me and poured that good butter over it. And also we got an issue of 12 bottles of beer and of course it went well with the corn. Quite a treat. And while I was munching away, I had three swell letters to read–two from Mom, one from Dad. They were full of clippings which of course I always enjoy. And the nite before that received a fat letter from Mona containing the Christmas Day pictures. Boy they were really good—and I had to show them around. I’m still looking at them often. So yesterday was slightly memorable. No packages have arrived yet and I want them plenty bad. Surely they will come soon unless the boat they were on was sunk.

I was especially glad to hear Dad had gotten his Purina deal through and from all I can judge from where I am, it smacks of a good solid business. Of course you are welcome to use my funds if you desire.

I know the car you bought will come in handy. You know [it’s hard to believe] I will be home someday and I can find use for it. With Phil’s, yours, this one and the ‘T’ you must have the place looking like a used car lot.

Well now I’m going to dig out your letters and see what I can write about. First off church–it would seem just as good to me to enjoy the quiet atmosphere of our own church. I never before realized the dignity and background of our church before, and the thoughts of what religion can be, really help me, especially in situations of this kind. You can actually realize that there is something far greater than mortals.

And here in the middle of this page something good again, I’m really rating on the mail deal. A letter from Dad and one from Mrs. Dick. Her letters are a remarkable reflection of her life and her orderly ways. At the end she quoted a very inspiring passage. Her letter was indeed a good one and that’s an understatement.

Well I just finished chow and now I can get back to writing. A light meal but we have a ‘special’ planned for tonight. Bananas and cream and sugar–how I’m looking forward to it.

Last nite slept pretty good but a damned Jap plane kept circling over so I had to keep one eye open. More nuisance than anything else.

Thoughts of Johnny Hirasawa put me hot all over. The guts of the guy to enjoy our privileges and then join the Jap army as an officer. His guts will end up a grease spot for the vultures to have.

I’m glad the War Department sent you the picture of Dick. My last letter from him indicated he was feeling better and enjoying himself as much as possible.

I especially liked the shot of the table with the candles and dishes. Gee how wonderful it would have been to have enjoyed it together, but the longer I am away the greater our enjoyment will be at some future time. I hope you will soon receive a telegram from me stating I’m homeward bound. Although it’s bad to be unduly optimistic I feel the end of the European war will institute many changes. Actually I hope I won’t get a furlough but will get back on rotation. Furlough entails coming back while rotation will mean sometime in the states. The letter enclosed is an exaggeration, but nevertheless a glimmer of the truth of how we have developed army habits and how we must re-adapt. Read it over—it should pull a laugh.

Our bridge games are no longer. No players so I’m probably pretty rusty. All these birds play is pinochle.

Every evening has meant a listen to the news and the remarkable Russian drive. The last report I had was that they were 145 miles from Berlin. Surely the Germans can not long resist these pushes. We will soon be celebrating the end, although to us here, although it will be a great bit of news, it will just be another day. Also heard tonight that we are 40 miles from Luzon. Undoubtedly the Philippine campaign is being regarded as past, contemplating greater moves.

I just opened a beer and it is really good. I must ration them to make them last.

Well I’m getting writer’s fatigue so I’m going to lick my chops and get ready for our tent. I believe this letter will reflect our good spirits and we compensate for those that were the other way. Keep my mail up-you are doing great. I am especially awaiting the moccasins and the lighter. They will feel good after taking off these heavy GI’s. I guess this is all. Believe what Mrs. Dick told you for I do myself and someday this will only be something for reflection and an inspiration to do all I can to avoid future debacles.

Love,

21 January 1945

Dear Folks:

A quiet Sunday morning and I’m taking it easy so a good time to write a letter and perhaps take care of some others. Will probably go to church services this afternoon held in the mess hall across the road. Last Sunday listened to a very good divisional chaplain. The Catholic chaplain who serves our battalion strikes me as a very understanding and likeable fellow, and I think he is the best we’ve had. I hope he comes this afternoon.

Well it was rainy yesterday and everything is mud again but this morning is hot and sunny like a typical June Sunday at home. I even feel the mood of the day, and the morning funnies would complete the setting. But instead of funnies had service records to look at.

Haven’t received any mail the past three days due to the inclement weather. The first class comes in by the plane so if it’s dirty weather, no mail. Should rate several today. No second class has yet come in.

Dan Gottman came in a few days ago with an armload of Star-Heralds and only yesterday I finished reading them. Only a few of them were later than September so everything was pretty old, but still good.

Last nite afforded something a little different in the way of eats. Supper was (a) little weak so we fried a can of bacon that we’ve been lugging around for some time. It’s the best bacon and it was certainly enjoyed. To top this we ate fruit cake that one of the boys received. Each section has a small one burner cook stove so we can heat up a meal when we’re not eating from the kitchen. Probably tonight we will cook the popcorn that the Groves sent me, if we can find anything to substitute for butter. Once in a while we get a PX issue of a few candy bars. The cigarette shortage seems to be felt here also. Now we are issued one pack every two and sometimes three days and that isn’t near enough. Plenty of smokes for the fighting front doesn’t apply here. Have been expecting a hurricane but it hasn’t materialized yet.

Slept pretty well last nite in contrast to a few restless ones. These dark nights make me afraid some Japs may bust in the area and start shooting things up. I imagine they are pretty desperate and hungry now. I always keep my pistol loaded under my pillow together with my knife. Of course we’re pretty well protected but I still wake up easily when I hear a sound.

For the past three nights have been dreaming of getting home. I hope it’s an indication. Last night I dreamt of hitting the streamliner from ‘Frisco and was nervous as a cat. But I can’t help but feel that something will happen that will get me home this year. After I get in the 30 months bracket my chances will increase. Next month the 3^rd I will complete 29.

The Gooks as we call the Filipinos, are working around the area digging drainage holes and cleaning up. It takes about four of them to do an ordinary man’s job. I think they’d be better off working for themselves but a grass hut and a bolo knife seems to satisfy them. (See how I need that pen and pencil set). This one is okeh but it needs a little coaxing occasionally and I’m always using one.

I’m certainly over the dysentery but have a slight cold that keeps my handkerchief busy.

I hope all my mail is getting to you in good order. They seem to censor and dispatch it in good time and I hope they are not too old when they get to you. All the envelopes we get stick together and it’s a job getting them open. Maybe it would be a good idea if you enclosed an airmail envelope occasionally.

I guess I haven’t anything else to write about and it’s about dinnertime now so I’ll knock off, and hope the mailman rings plenty tonight.

Love,

26 December 1944

Dear Folks:

A few spare minutes from the busy hustle of things to write you a few lines. It is the 26^th here but Christmas in the states so we celebrated today. To date this has been the least pleasant Christmas I’ve spent but I shouldn’t gripe – some had it much tougher. I wished I could explain just what happened and what I was doing on Christmas Eve. For dinner today we had plenty of turkey but not the usual trimmings. But it was a good dinner. I’ve been pretty busy lately and it’s been hard to write. Had four letters last night from you but they were old stuff and you hadn’t realized I’d moved yet. Have not received any more boxes as yet but I hear there is a pile at the APO, so maybe in a few days we’ll have them.

I hope you all had a nice time but that next (year) Dick and myself can be there with you, and I’m betting one of us will make it. I’ll write again soon.

Love,

9 November 1944

Dear Folks:

Just about enough time to write you an abbreviated epistle before another day closes. Just came from the show – this time it was ‘Deanna Durbin’ and last night it was the ‘Song of Russia’. Both were darned good but colored up to suit the watching public of course. So few stories are written as they truly are, but if they were held strictly to actuality they wouldn’t be liked, and authors couldn’t make a living. How did I start on that?

Had a letter from you last night, which will be read over a dozen times before it’s finally laid aside, as all of yours are. Some questions about Dick in it and I’ll tell you what I can. He isn’t in either of the regiments you mentioned, but is in the cavalry reconnaissance troop. Although he isn’t in the infantry he works with them and is usually where ever they are. He is in an infantry division, but such a division isn’t all infantry but is made up of several branches, although everything is in support of the infantry. The story you read about the 100 Yanks being trapped on the beach must have included Dick because he told me about it, and told of being picked up by the amtracs. He was sent in to help bring out the wounded when the Japs cracked the 105^th and it was then that he got caught. He said he picked up one wounded guy and started to carry him away but the Japs charged them and he had to leave him. And Dick told me a lot of stories like these although he probably would not mention them very much to anyone else. I know our outfit was never mentioned in the papers and some of (us) felt a little burned when everything you read said the 27^th was the only army in the operation. I’ll explain it at some future date.

I seem to be feeling much better than I have in some time—must be getting used to it. We usually have the afternoons off and during that time play baseball. The bulldozers scraped two cane fields down, and after harrowing it and putting a little corral around, they make nice fields. And every week a band is brought in to furnish some music that isn’t canned. The music isn’t always the best but the guys cheer anyone who can give them a little entertainment. What I miss a lot is something ice cold–we get a little beer, and to cool it we put it in a wet gunnysack and let the breeze flow thru it, but the result isn’t too good.

Well this is about all I guess, better knock off and hope the Japs won’t come over and ruin my sleep.

Love,

5 November 1944

Dear Folks:

I guess it’s high time I tortured this typewriter again and see if I can’t take care of a few current unanswered letters. Just finished off another Sunday, an easy loafing one although a ball game this morning took a little of the vinegar out of me, and this afternoon I had no trouble sleeping. I play shortstop on the team but my prowess is doubtful.

Well last night after the show two communiques from your front were here–one with the drawing of the house layout. Even though you’re no civil engineer Dad it was plenty okeh and I looked at it a long time before I had to go to bed because I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Of course I have the whole thing figured out in my mind and I’m sure it’s fully as nice as I think it is, and you don’t know how much I’d like to make an inspection.

Hey you people when you see any clippings about me or any of the others, cut it out and put it in the envelope. We haven’t received any 2^nd class mail in two months and if I have to wait for the papers I may never receive it. So the next letter be sure and get those articles you mentioned and send them. I’m pretty anxious to see them. I don’t know how many Free Presses must be on the way but I know the number is pretty high.

Perhaps the biggest thing since D-Day happened today. We all had the long delayed pleasure of sinking our fangs into some fresh meat. Good old steak, and besides this there was the rest to go with it, so my outlook improved considerably today. After this I reposed in customary Sunday style on the bunk, read a while then slept until about four. The Army should have more days like that.

Those much discussed but elusive furloughs were again given out a few days back, but its wait some more for me. We had the drawings at the theatre, walking by a can and grabbing a slip, and the one I pulled out was the blankest looking slip of paper I ever saw. I felt a little tense like the fellows you wrote about, and when it was over felt let down and a little defeated, but there’ll be another day (I hope). To be eligible you must have two year’s overseas service, so Dick won’t be eligible until about next May or June, I believe. If it is possible to get a quota every month perhaps my time won’t be far off, although getting the quota may be problematical.

Another high spot in last week’s seven days was the first payday in six months, and of course everyone is loaded with dough. I arranged a sort of Christmas present for you and I hope I can send it in my next letter. Working in personnel I’m glad to see everyone paid off as it means less paper work and liquidates a lot of little things to accumulate.

Also received a letter from Nancy last night and she sounds like she’s growing up. I’ll be plenty surprised when I have my first look at Philip and her because probably I don’t realize how much they’ve actually changed.

I think I better take off for the cinema–our shows start at six so I have to hurry to write you. I really enjoy your letters Dad. You put all the stuff in that interests me more than you think, and your style doesn’t make any difference. I wish I could tell you all I know because of course every GI has his ideas about what will happen next but I can’t say anything about that. Probably you have read about the little excitement we had the other night. Well I’ve really gotta stop and I’ll be around again soon.

Love,

30 October 1944

Dear Folks:

Kind of a lazy Sunday morning with not very much to do, so a good time to write you a letter while I won’t have to rush. Church services are in the afternoon. For a while this morning watched some volleyball games and then walked up to the baseball diamond, but it was pretty hot so I came back. While many things aren’t so convenient for us it helps a lot to get some time off and to be able to relax occasionally.

Since I started this I was interrupted and now it is about eight o’clock in the evening. I received three letters just before the show and just now could read them. This was the first mail in four days and I was beginning to think something had gone wrong again. Two of the letters were from you and one from Washington, so I had a boost in my morale. You once remarked Mom how I could write so much, well you are practically the only ones I write to, and many nights it’s a relief to write rather than trying to kill time and thinking about home so much, so I start writing, and when I’m doing it, it seems like I get a little closer to you somehow.

For the first time in several years I played baseball. The battery organized a third team and today I played third base. I guess I did alright although my hands are a little sore from catching the ball. In the battalion we have two leagues, the American (and) the National set up, so there are a lot of games. I’m on the first three graders volleyball team too, but not so hot at that racket. But there aren’t many of us so I have to play.

Of course the news from the Philippines on the water and on land is drawing our attention as it must be yours. I listen to every news broadcast I can, and we can get them from all sides, Australia, Japan, Germany and London. Two nights ago I ran onto a particularly interesting shortwave broadcast while dialing around. Correspondents for UP, INS and AP were transmitting their messages to ‘Frisco from Leyte and the procedure of getting the news to their agencies was interesting. Of course the Japs are claiming victories on a larger scale than ours, and claim Task Force 58 was annihilated off Formosa. The line of rot they propagate is really something to hear. In connection with the war I happened to get a hold of some interesting stuff on (the) Saipan operation and thought you might like to read it. Some of the commentators seem to think the Naval victory may shorten the war a few months and I’m not inclined to disagree. I hope the Philippines don’t bog down into another New Guinea affair and drag on for many months. Those yellow b___’s can live like gophers and it’ll take a lot to dig them out. They use ‘em to haul garbage from camp and when I see them go by on the truck I wonder what they’re thinking about. They are still bringing them out of the hills. About a month ago three of them were seen in a cane field next to one of the batteries and after killing two of them the other gave up. One of them was almost out in two bullets.

Just a few minutes ago I opened a can of beer and even had peanuts to go with it. The PX got a pretty good supply in and after waiting in line for 45 minutes finally was able to buy a few things.

Yesterday went to the dentist and had a small filling taken care of. My gum had swollen a little but wasn’t too sore so I thought I better see what was up. Luckily it wasn’t bad and he didn’t have to drill around too much. My teeth are in good shape now, and contrary to my civilian habits I brush them regularly.

Well I think I’ve run out for this time. Another Sunday gone by and another week on the way. Time seems to be flying for me to and I hope the next year goes as fast as the last one, for then I will be eligible for rotation. And pray that when we get our next furlough quota I will walk up and draw the little slip with the magic words on it. I worry more about you folks than I do about myself and I hope you don’t upset yourselves too much. Well there’s the curtain on another act so, so long –

Love,

25 October 1944

Dear Folks:

I have wanted to write you all day and I hope this letter gets to you with all possible speed. I’m afraid my last two epistles didn’t sound too cheerful, and you may have thought I was quite the old grouch, and probably you felt a little bad about them, so I want to make amends for them and try to make you believe I didn’t mean all of it. I received two letters from you last night and they were such good ones that I felt like a two bit heel. So please attribute them to the mood I was in and not any kind of a criticism of you. I know how you feel and how you must worry and I shouldn’t do anything to make it worse for you, so accept my apologies, and believe me when I say I didn’t mean them.

Well today was sort of a red letter one. No, not furloughs or a big stack of mail or anything like that, just some fresh meat. A couple of ex-cowhands took a jeep and shot a young cow from one of the herds that run around here. They slaughtered it and got it ready and the cooks did a good job of turning out a real supper tonight – really hit the spot. If the spuds hadn’t been dehydrated it would have been perfect.

Saw the movie ‘Mr. Skeffington’ tonight and I thought it was superb. One of the best I have seen in a long time. No war or flag waving exhibitions, just a good peacetime cinema. I thought it was great and the moral behind it was very good. Bette Davis is tops in my book.

In Dad’s letter last night he said the souvenirs had arrived OK. Was the box broken up and was everything there? There are so many regulations connected with the mailing of souvenirs that I wondered if anything had happened to them. And don’t forget to mail me the clipping that Si Parker had about them.

And another bright spot on the calendar this week. For the first time since last May I had a coke. Yep, we were issued ten of them – I don’t know how long they will last – but I look on each one as a precious treasure and hate to drink one. Even though we can’t cool them very well they still taste pretty good. The beer situation is getting better and I think I have about six or seven cans left. Usually drink one every night just before the show.

Gee mom it sounds like you were pretty worried about me when I had the fever, but really it wasn’t as bad as I believe you imagined. It’s all over now and I feel fine again. As a matter of fact I feel better than I have for some time.

I can just visualize how much trouble you went to, to get Dick’s and my boxes ready and you don’t know how good it makes me feel to know that – well that’s just the kind of parents they are and whatever they would do for us they wouldn’t think it would be enough. As each month goes by I wake up a little more to the fact that you are both the best in the world, and then those inconsiderate things I used to do and the worries I caused for you come in my thoughts, and I wonder if I can ever show you all the respect and love you both deserve.

We haven’t received any second class mail in weeks so of course that means I don’t get the Free Press, so you be sure and throw in all those clippings – even the little ones about anybody I used to know. I suppose soon the mail will come rushing in like a broken dam and I’ll be reading for weeks to catch up. Of course the first class is coming regularly and in fine time. I’ll bet you’re really busy taking care of Dick’s and my letters, and I’ll bet you never wrote so much in your life – even love letters.

Shirley Carroll’s dilemma is indeed a sorry one, but it seems to be following a typical Carroll pattern. If it hadn’t have been this, it would have been something else. Perhaps she should have been more careful, although I do feel sorry for her and thought she would make out better than most of them.

The little mention of the fiddle is something I often think about, and I get a deep urge to play it again. Your ears must have been very sympathetic when I picked it up. And my gas models often put a curb in my daydreams. I’ve thought that after the war I would start in again as a hobby, and have a little more to do with (it).

Well the lights around the area are going out one by one and I seem to be one of the few left so maybe I better be thinking about hitting the hay. But be sure and pick out all the nice things in those sour letters and forget the bad ones. I guess we all get (into) moods and I don’t know what made me that way.

Love,